


The Demise of Pan

by EllieAustin



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan & The Pirates, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieAustin/pseuds/EllieAustin
Summary: Based on Fox's Peter Pan & the Pirates, 'The Demise of Hook'. Peter Pan goes in search of the ghost of his enemy, Captain Hook, unaware that the man had faked his own death. All Captain Hook really needs to do is get hold of Peter... and give him no chance of escape. One-shot.





	The Demise of Pan

Hook had planned it all so carefully... and now it was all coming to fruition. The foolish brats had fallen for his tricks, hook, line, and sinker. It was all so easy. And Peter himself had now walked right into the trap.

The Captain watched with delight as the fear blossomed on the boy’s face, and his body tensed, straining to pull away from Hook's grip. The brazen child had flown straight to Buccaneer’s Cave in search of a ghost... but what he found was a bloodthirsty and very-much-alive pirate captain, hell-bent on revenge.

“You are mine, Pan. Blood, muscle and bone. All mine!”

Peter gasped and struggled as the ghost of Captain Hook towered over him. Before the boy could free himself from the man’s painful grasp, Hook pulled the boy off his feet and threw him violently to the stony ground.

Tinkerbell screamed as her boy landed in a heap, a cry of pain escaping him as his head connected with a rock. He clutched the wound with his hands, but before Tink could reach him, she was grabbed by Mr Smee, who had appeared from his hiding place.

Peter willed the stabbing throb in his head to ease, and managed to regain his senses enough to realise Tink’s plight. She struggled hopelessly in the fist of the bosun as Captain Hook approached them both.

And only now did Peter see the trickery. This was no ghost. This was the living Codfish. 

“You’re no ghost!”

The man burst into sinister laughter, and was joined by a chorus from the rest of his crew as they, too, appeared.

“What can I say,” the pirate leered down at his prisoner “except that the reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

The man knelt down by the boy and viciously grabbed him by the throat. Peter immediately grabbed Hook’s wrist with both hands, trying to pry the man off of him in vain.

The boy choked as he was hauled to his feet, but held his breath as he saw the sharp tip of Hook’s namesake come perilously close to his face.

“You will wish you had never been born, Peter. I will make you beg. I will make you scream. I will break you.”

Peter felt a cold terror seize him. The man was deadly serious. This wasn’t a game any more, and he wanted to go home. He wished he hadn’t come. He wished he could take it back. But he was trapped.

Hook smiled cruelly at the pathetic child shaking in his grasp, and loosened his hold just enough to let Pan draw breath and begin to beg for his life.

“Let me go!” The boy pulled away, but Hook was too strong and far too determined. In a flash he had moved his good hand from the boy’s throat to his hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling back Peter’s head mercilessly. The scream from Peter’s lips was like music to the man, and he savoured every moment of the child’s pain. 

And each cry drove him to inflict more.

Flinging the boy back to the ground, Hook climbed on top of him. Peter gasped as the man’s full weight pressed down on him, crushing him. He felt his breath escape him and he struggled to take in more air.

Broken cries and sobs echoed through the cavern as Hook considered his captive.

The crew fidgeted nervously as they watched the scene; some were relishing the boy’s pain as much as their Captain, but a few were growing uncomfortable.

After some moments of simply enjoying the boy’s struggle, Hook leaned forward and gently brought his permanent weapon to the boy’s chest. With slow pleasure, he let the tip of his hook pierce the child’s skin, and Peter screamed again.

Tink was overcome with panic and horror as her boy cried out in pain. She struggled with all her might in Smee’s grip, then bit down on the man’s grubby fist as hard as she could. Mr Smee startled, having almost forgotten the fairy he held as he watched the horrific spectacle before him. Crying out in surprise, he inadvertently relaxed his grip and Tinkerbell dashed from his hand.

“Fly, Tink! Fly!”

Knowing she could not help Peter alone, Tink complied with his orders, flying as fast as she could through the cave, safely above the heads of the scrambling crewmen who were struggling to catch her.

Hook glared darkly as he watched the fairy make her escape, then turned his head back to gaze down at the captive boy still pinned beneath him. He saw the small smile on the boy’s face, and it filled him with rage.

Peter’s face dropped as his eyes met the incensed Captain’s, and gasped again in pain as the man’s good hand struck him across the face, snapping Peter’s head to one side.

Peter tried to stifle the tears that began cascading down his cheeks, as much from fear as from pain, and would not meet Hook’s eye as the man drew even closer to the boy, their noses almost touching.

“Don’t raise your hopes, boy. You’ll be dead before any of your brats try to save you. And they’ll be dead not long after.”

Climbing to his feet, Hook looked down at the boy and contemplated his next move.

Peter rolled onto his front and pushed himself up onto his knees, trying to ignore the stinging of the cuts on his chest and head. He needed time to gather himself; to recover. He didn’t know what to do. Hook had never hurt him like this before. This was too real.

Before he could do any more, he felt the man’s hand grab the back of his head again, grasping the knotted hair tightly and pulling Peter’s head back sharply.

The boy openly sobbed now, no longer able to conceal his desperate fear.

“Beg me, Peter.” Hook’s voice was soft and menacing in his ear, “Beg for your life.”

Peter fought to stop his tears, biting back the sobs that racked his body. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm. He couldn’t give the man what he wanted. He wouldn’t let Hook break him.

The Captain grew impatient as the boy stilled and stayed silent. How could this boy endure such torment? Then a sinister grin spread across the man’s face.

“Very well, Peter. We’ll see how much more you can take.”

In an instant Peter found himself crashing back onto the ground, Hook having violently shoved him down.

“Mason… Mullins… take hold of him.”

Peter flailed and lashed out as the two burly crewman complied with their captain’s order and grabbed at him. Mason took hold of his legs while Mullins grabbed his arms and they quickly had him pinned. The boy thrashed and kicked but the men were too strong, and easily held him. 

Peter paused in his efforts, losing strength quickly now from the exertion. He looked up to see Captain Hook smiling down at him, and again a shiver of fear shot through the boy. How far had Tink got? How long had it been since her escape? Seconds? Minutes? Certainly not long enough to get help. No one would be able to help him. He was alone.

“Mr Jukes, find me a large rock.”

Peter felt his heart rate increasing as Billy Jukes nervously set about complying with his Captain’s order.

“What are you gonna do?” Peter’s voice was weak and shaky, and he wished he had not spoken. Hook’s smile widened.

“I just need to be sure you won’t fly away before the fun is finished.”

Jukes appeared beside the Captain holding a substantial rock, but one that Hook could hold comfortably in his one good hand. When he had taken it from the young crewman, Billy scurried back, fearful of getting any more involved.

“Mason, lift his leg.” 

Peter kicked out at the pirate as he raised the boy’s left leg a little, but the man didn’t loosen his grip. 

Hook gently kicked another large rock into place beneath Peter’s raised foot, and motioned for Mason to hold the boy’s leg upon it.

Peter tensed and tried again to struggle free of the men as he watched Hook kneel down beside him, rock in hand.

The boy gasped and his eyes widened in pure terror as the captain lifted the rock high and brought it down heavily onto Peter’s elevated leg.

There was a sickening snap as the rock connected with flesh and bone, just above the boy’s left ankle. The crewmen cringed as they watched the force break the child’s leg, misshaping it gruesomely, and the cave was filled by the most blood-curdling scream ever to emanate from Peter Pan.

The men watched on as their captain stood and surveyed his work. Peter continued to scream and cry and writhe, his eyes screwed shut from the unbearable pain.

Hook signalled to Mason and Mullins that they could let go, but Peter held himself as still as possible when they released him; every slight movement caused another bolt of pain to shoot through him. He had never felt anything like this, and his body trembled uncontrollably, making it even worse.

Hook leaned down to the boy again, gently stroking his hand through Peter’s hair. Peter tensed, and willed the man to stop touching him, but kept his eyes tightly shut. The Captain watched the boy’s trembling lip, and felt a satisfaction roll over him. 

He was finally getting his revenge, and he would savour every moment.

“Beg me, Pan.”

Only another cry emanated from the boy, and the Captain stood up to survey his handy-work. Blood trickled steadily from Peter’s leg to the ground, his left foot still raised. Hook could see splintered bone and mangled flesh. He had probably crippled the boy permanently. But what did that matter? Peter wouldn’t be alive long enough to even hope to recover.

A quiet suddenly fell, and it was a moment before Hook realised the cause of it. Peter had stilled, his eyes closed as if in sleep, the pain finally becoming too much as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

“Oh no, Pan...” Hook leaned over the boy again and shook him roughly, “Wake up! We’ve barely begun.”

The boy did not stir.

“Smee! Bring me the salts.”

“Beggin’ ya pardon, Captain...” Mullins kept his head bowed submissively, his hands fidgeting with the hat he held as he addressed the terrifying man, “Wouldn’t it be better to let the boy rest a little.”

“Rest, Robert Mullins? Rest?!”

“Aye, Sir… Unless ya be about to slit the lad’s throat… It don’t sit well with me, Captain.”

“Well, Mr Mullins… I didn’t realise you were such a man of honour.”

“I just don’t feel right, torturing a child… Even Peter Pan, Captain. He’s already had the stuffing knocked out of ‘im. Can’t ya just end it now, Sir?”

Hook steadily approached the man until they stood nose to nose. Mullins stood firm, swallowing his fear as best he could; The Captain despised weakness.

“I have suffered, Mr Mullins… suffered for years because of that boy. And you would have me show him mercy? He is no child! He is a devil! An ageless sprite who has probably lived longer than you and I combined. He deserves none of your concern.”

“Begging ya pardon, Captain… but the sight of it still makes me… uncomfortable, Sir.”

“Aye, Captain,” chimed Billy Jukes, “Me too.”

“I see.” Hook glanced around at his crewmen. They furtively avoided his eye. “Anyone else?”

The men remained silent, but awkward, and it was clear what they truly thought of the situation.

“Very well. Starkey. Mason. Build me a fire. Jukes. Put the bag of supplies here by Pan so I can access it easily. Once the fire is lit, you will all wait for me outside and keep guard. I will have my fun alone.”

The crewmen chorused, “Aye aye, Captain.” and set about their tasks.

Billy heaved the hessian holdall closer to where Peter lay unconscious, then scurried off to help gather fire wood. All the crew were glad to be making themselves scarce; despite the truth of their Captain’s words, Peter Pan still looked and sounded like a little boy, and his torture was hard to stomach, even for those scoundrels.

Captain Hook settled himself on a nearby rock as his crew scurried to and fro. Even once the fire had been built and stoked, the man remained sitting, watching the boy sleep.

Now the sounds of his crew had faded away, and only the crackle of the burning wood broke the silence. He continued to consider the youth, and was plagued by Mullins’ concerns. Asleep, Pan looked like the sweetest of children; innocent and naive. Hook himself was becoming uncomfortable at the prospect of torturing the boy further… But his thirst for vengeance was far from being quenched. What he needed was for Peter Pan to reassert his selfish, cocky attitude. He needed the boy to stoke the man’s hatred. But Peter remained unconscious.

Now all the pirate could do was examine the boy, and the damage Hook had caused. The grotesque gash on Peter’s leg seemed somehow more disturbing now, and James felt a pang of regret. If he were to break Pan’s spirit, he probably wouldn’t be able to go through with murdering the brat. The conflict of this filled his mind as he continued to watch his fallen enemy. But if he didn’t finish the boy off soon, those scurvy Lost Boys would try to rescue him.

Ha! Let them come. If Hook’s own devilish crew couldn’t bare to see Pan’s injuries, those urchins would probably run screaming. Even so… Hook would prefer not to kill more than one child that night. 

As he was brooding, the smoke of the fire had slowly built-up; the cave having poor ventilation… and the man was startled from his thoughts by Peter suddenly coughing.

The child groaned despairingly as he was dragged back from oblivion; the pain from his leg slightly dulled but steady. 

Peter slowly opened his eyes to see the cave ceiling above him, and his heart sank as he remembered his plight. If only it had been a terrible nightmare! But no. 

He tried to keep his injured leg as still as possible as he propped himself up on his elbows to better take in his surroundings, but when he noticed Captain Hook sitting nearby and staring at him, the boy froze.

Wide-eyed and fearful, he watched the Captain.

Eventually, a small half-smile broke on Hook’s face, and he broke their gaze.

“Feeling rested, Pan?”

Peter was horrified that he felt himself about to burst into tears again, and swallowed determinedly. He mustn’t show Hook his fear; ‘My enemy’s weakness is my strength’, and he was not about to give Hook any more power over him.

After composing himself for a few moments, Peter forced himself to grin. “Much rested, Captain Codfish. I haven’t slept so well in months.”

Hook’s smile grew, and Peter’s face dropped. Why did the man look pleased by his words? 

“What happened to your crew, Captain? Finally mutinied?”

Peter inwardly chastised himself; why was he still trying to goad the man despite being absolutely terrified? Hook had already mangled his leg. What else was he planning?

“No, boy. I thought it would be a more intimate experience if we were alone. And some of the men were growing… anxious.”

“Anxious? About me?”

“Indeed. Your screams were enough to shake them… And they found my methods difficult to witness.”

Peter cackled quietly, “I had no idea they cared!”

“No… nor did I. But they are gone now,” Peter shrank back subconsciously as Hook stood and slowly started walking towards him, “and now my fun can continue.”

Peter willed himself to stop trembling, but his heart was beating like a steam train and his leg flared with every imperceivable movement. 

“What do you want, Hook?”

“I have what I want, Peter. You.”

“Please don’t hurt me any more.”

The Captain paused at the boy’s plea and stared at him. 

“Was that the sweet start of Peter Pan begging?”

“Of course not, Codfish! It was a request.”

“Well… that is disappointing.” Hook smiled slyly again as he turned to the bag Jukes had left. Rummaging through it a moment, Hook pulled out a long metal poker and brandished it through the air.

“Do you know what this is, Pan?”

Peter shied away, but scowled defiantly at the pirate.

“You’re going to beat me with a poker?”

The man laughed, heartily. “Heavens no, boy! I have something far more devastating in mind.”

Hook pointed the poker at Peter and the boy beheld the symbol of a skull and crossbones carved onto the end on it, measuring about two inches across. Taking it to the fire, Hook thrust the poker deep into the flames and held it there. The realisation quickly dawned on Peter as he watched the man; it wasn’t a poker Hook held… it was a branding iron. 

The boy felt his stomach drop as fear turned to panic. His breathing became laboured as the horror of Hook’s intention became clear.

Pulling the iron from the fire, Hook checked it to make sure the brand was glowing red hot before slowly approaching the injured boy.

“No!” Peter’s panic spilled over and he turned and attempted to drag himself away from the oncoming danger. Searing agony lashed from his leg as he moved it, and Peter was crippled with pain, balling up on the ground and sobbing in terror.

Hook brought the branding iron close to Peter’s most exposed shoulder then held it there, only a few inches from the child’s skin.

“Beg me, Peter. Beg me not to.”

“Please!” The boy looked up at his assailant beseechingly, overcome with desperation, “Please, Hook! Don’t! Please don’t hurt me!” 

Floods of tears cascaded down the boy’s face as he begged, and Hook felt elation. His blood-lust did not fade with Pan’s pathetic grovelling, as Hook had feared. His hatred for the boy was too great, after all.

“This is for my hand, Peter.”

Peter gasped as he watched Hook thrust the branding iron at him. The end of it connected with his chest, just below his right shoulder, and his flesh immediately began to burn.

Pan’s scream echoed through the cavern and reached the ears of the crewmen outside, who glanced furtively at each other but remained where they were, on the lookout for a rescue attempt that would come too late.


End file.
